The Orphan Sky by Ella Leya Page B

a small celebration here. Leila has won the competition.”
    â€œCongratulations!” Comrade Farhad placed his right hand across his chest and bowed his head briefly. “I’m very proud of your daughter. But no thank you, Sonia Khanum , I don’t intend to intrude on your f-f-family time.” A henna-red blush ran across his cheek.
    â€œThis is for you, Sonia Khanum .” He held out the bouquet to Mama. “Is Mekhti Rashidovich available for a second? I’m here to ask if he would kindly agree to be our point speaker at a conference I am planning for June.”
    â€œI’d be honored.” Papa joined us at the door and shook hands with Farhad. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about your dedicated, hard work on behalf of our Young Communists League. And we, Sonia and I, have been most pleased to have you as an excellent role model and mentor for our dear Leila.”
    â€œThank you, Mekhti Rashidovich, for your kind words.” Comrade Farhad pressed his hands to his chest, tilting his head sideways to convey humility. “We strive to continue the legacy of illustrious leaders such as yourself and your distinguished family. Again, I apologize for the intrusion, Sonia Khanum .” He turned toward me. “You played exceptionally well, Leila. You’ve made us all very proud. I’ll see you—”
    â€œLeila dear.” Mama gently moved a curl off my eyes. “Why don’t you walk Farhad out?”
    â€œOf course, just a moment.”
    I zipped to my room, kicked off slippers in favor of my heeled shoes, and joined Farhad outside the door. We went downstairs in total silence except for the clack-clack of my heels slapping the granite. I could feel his presence, strong and manly. And suddenly I became very much aware of the four-year difference in our ages. He was a man, unlike my immature schoolmates who talked about all these things . How would it feel if Farhad took my hand in his, brought it to his face, and touched my fingers with his lips? The way Papa had just kissed Mama’s hand? How would it feel to hear a beating heart inside Farhad’s steel armor?
    We crossed our courtyard and stopped in the niche with no one around. Just Farhad and me. I kept my eyes down, fighting off the tremolo in my stomach.
    â€œWhere is your Komsomol badge?” he asked out of the blue.
    My hand flew to my collar. The badge wasn’t there. I took it off to go visit Tahir and forgot to pin it back on. I closed my eyes in embarrassment, expecting to be reprimanded.
    â€œDon’t worry, Leila,” I heard Farhad saying in an unusually mellow voice. “I have this special badge given to me by Comrade Popov himself.”
    He pulled a large badge out of the pocket of his trousers and began to pin it to the collar of my blouse.
    I wanted to put my foolish head on Farhad’s shoulder and cry and confess my treasonous behavior and my confusion and my fears. He would understand and forgive because he really cared about me. How could I have been so foolish as to think that Comrade Farhad had wrecked my recital? It was stage fright. That’s all. The rest I invented myself.
    Farhad’s pinkie seemed to slowly move down to my breast…poking…probing…reaching the nipple…all while attaching the Komsomol badge. Then he furtively looked around, grabbed my hand, and brushed it against his bulging crotch.
    â€œThat’s what you’ve done to me,” he whispered in my ear accusingly, breathing flames. “You are mine now. Do you hear me? You belong to me, Leila. To me and no one else. I think about you all the time. All the things I’m going to do to you.” He grinned, yellow snakes dancing in his eyes. “And remember, I’m watching you. Watching your every step. So you better never— never —let me down.”
    He turned and hastily walked away, leaving me standing in the shadowy niche. Staring